


Forget-Me-Not

by babybrotherdean



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, American Revolution, Angst, Death and Reincarnation, F/M, Flowers, Historical References, M/M, Reincarnation, Soulmates, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 07:21:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5325467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babybrotherdean/pseuds/babybrotherdean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>In 1547, they meet as children.</i>
</p><p>-</p><p>Sometimes, even when two people are truly meant to be together, it takes a few lifetimes across a few centuries for everything to sort itself out.</p><p>(previously titled <i>Again and Again</i>)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forget-Me-Not

**Author's Note:**

> Wow. Okay, so this was an anonymous prompt that... got a little bit out of hand. I had a lot of fun. And cried three times in the process.
> 
> I make no promises about historical accuracy. 
> 
> _"Hello :) I heard you're looking for prompts? Well, maybe I have just something for you! What about Sam and Dean or Jared and Jensen (the choice is yours) going trough centuries, trying to get together but always failing? Death, unwanted marriage, execution, kidnapping, disappearing, suicide, murder. And finally they do. They might have some... visions from their previous lives. Thank you :)"_
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> Gorgeous art by [beekeepercain](http://beekeepercain.tumblr.com/post/146677845418) aka [Chakatai](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Chakatai/pseuds/Chakatai) aka Leo aka my fave. <3

In 1547, they meet as children.

The rurals of Denmark are peaceful in the spring, quiet and rife with flowers. Jared’s out on his own, humming softly and plucking some of the nicer ones from the ground to give to his mother. She always smiles so big when he brings her the pretty ones, so it’s worth the effort to hunt them down, even if it tires him out to wander all the way across the village to the fields that lay beyond.

Jared spends a lot of time out here, eight years old and exploring what little he knows of the world, but he’s never run into someone else.

He doesn’t even notice the other boy, at first- he’s laying down among the flowers, and he almost looks like he’s asleep. But Jared does see him, when he gets close enough, soft golden hair and pale skin with a dusting of freckles, and for a long few moments, he just stares, fingers curled gently around the flowers he’s already collected.

It takes him a long few seconds to speak up, because he’s never seen this boy before and he wants to know his name. “Um- hi.”

The other boy blinks his eyes open, and they’re as green as the grass he’s laying in, and Jared thinks that this is probably the most beautiful person he’s ever met.

“Hi,” the boy replies, and his voice is soft as he sits up, rests his weight back on his arms. Smiles a little bit. He looks a little older than Jared, and it feels odd standing up while he’s still mostly lying down. “Um- am I in your way?”

“Oh- no, no,” Jared assures him quickly, shaking his head. “I was just wonderin’ what your name is, ‘cause I’ve never seen you around before.”

“Well, I’ve never seen you either.” He doesn’t look upset, though, and he smiles again. “I’m Jensen. What’s your name?”

“Jared.” He hesitates for a moment before sitting down, legs crossed, beside Jensen. They know each other’s names, and they’ve gotta be nearly the same age, so they’re pretty much friends now. “Do you live in the village?”

“Yep.” Jensen’s nodding, and he glances back towards where they both came from. “But… my momma doesn’t let me out much. Says the outside is bad for me.”

Jared frowns at that, and that’s when he notices just _how_ pale Jensen is- sickly pale, almost, like how his brother looked when he got a nasty fever. He almost reaches out to check Jensen’s temperature like his parents do, but catches himself. “Are you sick?”

“Kinda.” Jensen shrugs, looks a little bit sad. “I think I’ve always been sick, but I managed to get out today, and…” He smiles, then, gestures around them. “I like it here. It’s really pretty.”

“Yeah!” Jared nods, excited, shifts a little bit closer. “I like it here. The flowers are pretty, and it smells nice, and it’s always real quiet. Usually there’s no one else here ‘cept me, until now.” He pauses, quickly adds, “but I like you bein’ here. You’re nice.”

“So are you.” Jensen’s smile goes soft. “I didn’t think I’d see anyone here.”

“I’m here to get flowers. For Momma.” He holds up the ones he’s collected already, a proud smile on his face. “She puts ‘em in water, and they’re real pretty in the house. Make it li… live-ly, she says.”

“I bet.” Jensen’s quiet for a moment, and he looks thoughtful, and Jared’s almost holding his breath, eager to hear whatever he’s got to say. “I wish I had flowers at my house. Wouldn’t be so lonely being inside all the time, I think.”

And Jared’s eyes widen a little, and he’s already scrambling to his feet. “I can get you some!” he says, and his excitement is evident in his voice as he hurries away. Not too far- he can still see Jensen in the corners of his eyes, watching him, but far enough to make sure he gets a flower of every colour, tongue poking out between his lips to make sure they’re perfect. He needs to make his new friend happy, so he’s gotta do a good job at this.

He returns to Jensen a few minutes later, flowers in hand, plops down beside him. Smiles sort of shyly as he offers them up, because this feels important, for some reason. Like it means something. “Here ya go. Picked ‘em all special.”

“Yeah?” Jensen’s smiling, too, takes the flowers carefully. He brings them in close and smells them before smiling even bigger at Jared. “They’re perfect.”

And Jared beams at him, all but bouncing in place. “Really?”

“Really.” Jensen leans a little closer, then, and Jared doesn’t know what he’s doing until there’s a tiny kiss being pressed to his cheek, and he feels himself blushing up to the tips of his ears. “They’re really pretty, Jay.”

The nickname makes Jared feel warm inside, and he smiles, ducking his head. “I can get you more, maybe,” he offers. “For- for when you’re inside. If you want.”

Jensen’s hand finds his, then, squeezes it gently. “I think I’d like that.”

-

Jensen doesn’t come outside very often. Jared knows where he lives now, though, so he visits- brings Jensen flowers every day to brighten up his room. Jensen’s mother smiles at him, and he’s allowed to stay for a little while to spend time with his friend- his best friend, he thinks, because he’s never liked anyone else this much- but whenever Jensen gets into a coughing fit or can’t keep his eyes open anymore, he has to go home. They visit the field, sometimes, on his good days- but as time goes on, those get fewer and farther between.

It goes a few months like that, and Jensen gets worse. He stops leaving his room altogether, and he’s asleep most times, barely has the energy to smile when Jared visits, now. His mom tells Jared that there’s something wrong with how he breathes, and they can’t do anything to fix it, no matter how hard they try- that this is how things are always going to be.

Jared cries when he gets home that night, because he hates seeing his friend in so much pain and this isn’t _fair_. 

It rains on the last day Jared visits. Jensen’s mother opens the door with tears in her eyes, and she won’t let him inside. Jared’s got a sick feeling in his stomach, though, and he darts past her, nearly trips over his own feet on his way to Jensen’s bedroom.

The air is heavy, and it’s hard to breathe around it. Jared’s almost gasping for breath by the time he makes it to the doorway, doesn’t even hear Jensen’s mother calling after him, grips the door frame with shaking hands.

The flowers at Jensen’s bedside are drooping and withered, and the fresh ones he’s got tight in his fist drift to the floor when he sees his best friend.

Jensen’s perfectly still, lips slightly parted and tinged blue like the ocean, skin paler than he’s ever seen it. There are tears welling up in Jared’s eyes and it’s hard to speak around the lump in his throat. Barely manages a whisper, voice thick.

“Jenny?”

That’s when Jensen’s mother reaches him, and she doesn’t say anything, just scoops him up and presses his face into her chest as she carries him back outside. She whispers something that sounds like “I’m sorry” as she sets him down, but Jared barely hears her, stumbling over himself in his rush to get away. 

He doesn’t realize he’s going towards the field until he’s there, until he trips and goes down hard, crushing a little patch of blue flowers as he hits the ground. All he can see is Jensen, pale and lifeless and _gone-_

Jared cries himself to sleep right there, curled up tight in the place they met and trying to remember the colour of Jensen’s eyes.

 

 

In 1624, they’re both young men and Europe is being torn apart.

Men have been leaving the village every day to enlist, to fight in the war, and every day, Jared fears that his best friend is going to be next.

“There’re already lots of soldiers. They don’t need anyone else.”

They’re tucked away in Jared’s family’s barn, curled up on a pile of hay because it’s easy to be alone here. Jared’s got himself snuggled up in Jensen’s arms, head tucked under his chin, eyes closed and just breathing him in. They can’t have much- there’s no telling how their families would react, let alone the other villagers- but they can have this.

“But what if they do?” Jared can't stop thinking about it, curls his fingers tight in Jensen’s shirt. “I don’t want you to go. Don’t want to lose you, Jen.”

“You’re not going to.” Jensen’s arms tighten around him. “They don’t need me. And- I mean, this war’s been going on for years. It has to end soon.”

That’s as much as they talk about it, because they only have so much time to spend like this, and Jared figures they shouldn’t waste it wondering about worst-case scenarios.

-

Jensen barely even has time to say goodbye.

“I’ll be back, okay?” And he’s whispering, pressing his forehead against Jared’s and holding his hands tight. “Soon. Just gotta knock some heads together, and then I’ll come home.”

“You better not get hurt.” It’s barely a mumble, and Jared’s doing his best not to cry. He needs to stay strong for this. “I’ll be waiting, so- so don’t keep me waiting long.”

“I won’t.” And Jensen smiles, and leans in, and presses a light, barely-there kiss to his lips- tastes like he’s sharing a secret. “Promise.”

-

Years pass, and the war wages on.

Jared’s nearly drafted himself, but he’s busy enough with his work on the farm that he’s spared. His father and brother leave, and it’s just him and his mother left in his home, and things get lonely. 

He barely goes a day without thinking about Jensen- about how he’s doing, about whether or not he’s okay. He hates not knowing, and thinks that’s probably the worst part.

He’s in his early twenties now, and with his parents aging, he’s expected to marry- to meet a girl and carry on the family name. He’s already a little old for it, waiting for Jensen to come home- but it seems less and less likely by the day, and it gets harder to ignore his duty to his family as time goes on.

Jared’s introduced to Alyssa when he’s twenty-four. She’s got big blue eyes and a gentle smile and her hands are small and soft in Jared’s. Jensen still hasn’t come home and Jared needs someone and he doesn’t think he can live with this uncertainty on his own for any longer.

They get married that spring, and Jared smiles when he kisses her, but there’s something oddly nostalgic about the blue flowers in her bouquet- something that makes him think of open fields and childhood and soft, freckled skin.

He doesn’t think about it too hard.

-

The war lasts thirty years, and Jared spends the tail end of it settling into married life. Alyssa is kind, and she’s a good wife, and she never asks him about the nightmares he has- about Jensen not coming home, about losing him forever, about a pale little boy in a bed that reeks of sickness and death- and everything almost feels okay. She’s round and glowing with their first child when summer comes around, and sometimes, it’s like everything is normal. Like he hasn’t lost anyone.

When Jensen returns with a small group consisting of other men from their village- when he shows up at Jared’s doorstep looking battered and beaten and older, but still smiling so gentle at him when he answers the knock- Jared feels like his heart’s being squeezed tight, constricted, because Alyssa waddles up behind him- she’s so far along now that she struggles to walk- and asks who’s at the door. 

He watches something shrivel up and die in Jensen’s eyes, and feels something crack in his chest along with it.

-

They’re still friends. They get together as often as they can manage it, and Jensen and Alyssa get along surprisingly well. He’s there when their child is born- he’s healthy and happy and they name him Theo- and he becomes sort of a member of their family. It’s comfortable, and it’s more than Jared could’ve hoped for, but it’s not what either of them wanted and he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to let go of the ache in his heart.

Jensen’s knees are getting a little too bad to make it up into the barn’s loft anymore, so Jared sits with him in front of their house, huddled together with the stars out and a heavy fur draped across their laps, breath billowing out thick and white in the winter air. There’s warmth in the space between them, and Jared thinks maybe this makes things a little bit okay.

“I missed you.” Jensen’s voice is soft, and he’s been back for a while, now- for years; his hair is starting to go grey around his temples and the crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes seem to be permanent- but he’ll start this conversation, sometimes. Like he needs to reaffirm that he’s here; that he’s made it home. Jared never tries to stop him. “Didn’t think it was ever gonna end, y’know? I mean… every day that passed, I thought, ‘this has to be it. It’s gonna end.’ But it didn’t. Thought I’d never get to see you again, but…” And he leans a little closer, closes his eyes and rests his head on Jared’s shoulder. “But you’re here.”

And Jared knows this isn’t what they wanted, not really. Knows they had imagined so much more for their future, that they could be together, somehow- but he has a family, now, and Jensen’s home, and he’s safe, and maybe this can be enough.

He rests his cheek in Jensen’s hair and sighs. Noses against him gently. “Yeah. I’m here.”

Because no matter what, this is better than not having Jensen at all.

 

 

In 1773, they’re both part of the fight over America’s freedom.

Though, granted- they’re not fighting for the same cause.

They meet in the chaos after a boatload of tea is dumped into Boston Harbour, both sides scrambling for orders and direction. Jensen’s wearing red and Jared’s wearing blue, and somehow, in the chaos of soldiers moving, soldiers going for cover or friends or family-

-they manage to find each other.

It’s a little warehouse by the shipyard, a high ceiling and seemingly endless stacks of wooden crates ready for shipping. They make the vast space feel small and crowded, and all things considered with the maze-like setup of the place, it’s a miracle that they bump into each other at all.

Jared’s moving quickly, heart racing, adrenaline pumping through his veins. Remembers the sound of distant cheering as the crates full of tea had been dumped into the water, remembers the excitement, the thrill of it all. Remembers running as fast as he was able, nearly tripping over his own feet trying to get away as fast as he could, wanting to avoid the British soldiers who were sure to stream in at any moment.

The warehouse is the obvious solution- lots of spaces to hide when they’d be more concerned with rounding up other rebels- and it’s there that he turns a sharp corner around a crate and damn near collides with a red coat.

Green eyes and freckles and pink lips that Jared _knows_ are soft, that he knows would feel like comfort and home and safety pressed against his forehead- it’s an odd thing to think about a stranger, but Jared can’t quite chase it from his mind- are what he notices first, and he’s so transfixed by them that he doesn’t even really notice the bayonet until the tip is pressed against his chest- just enough to feel without actually doing any damage.

“Identify yourself.” His eyes are fixed on Jared’s face, but they’re not as hard as they should be- more of a meadow green than jade right then. “What are you doing here?”

Jared’s unarmed, still trying to catch his breath, and- judging by the weapon being pointed at him- pretty much outmatched. He doesn’t make any move right then, eyes flitting over the man’s face. Wonders how many freckles he has. “I’m Jared. What’s your name?”

The guy looks entirely too surprised at that, but he looks curious, too, if a little cautious. “Jared,” he repeats softly, and it rolls off his tongue like it’s always lived there, hovering just at the roof of his mouth waiting to be spoken. “I’m… Jensen. My name’s Jensen.” Pauses, seems to catch himself. Shakes his head sharply. “That isn’t- that’s not that point. What are you doing here?”

“Running? Hiding, I guess, technically.” Jared glances back over his shoulder. He can still hear the chaos, distantly, feet pounding against pavement, shouting. Cheers. “Doesn’t seem like a smart day to be wearing blue, I guess.”

“Not really.” A pause, and the pressure of the bayonet’s tip against his chest lessens. “You throw that tea overboard?”

“I was a distraction.” Jared smiles to himself. Always something he’d been good at. “You gonna shoot me?”

There’s a long silence like Jensen’s considering that before he pulls the weapon back entirely. When Jared looks back at him, he’s rubbing the back of his neck, sighing. “I wasn’t really a big fan of tea, to begin with.”

Jared has to smile at that, lets his posture ease a little bit now that there’s no immediate threat. “Isn’t that like… right there in your job description, or something?”

Jensen’s serious expression cracks, and it looks like he’s fighting a smile. His eyes light up and Jared thinks he’ll never want to look away from them. “Guess you could say that, yeah.”

Jared hasn’t met a whole lot of Brits in his life, but if many of them are like Jensen, he figures they can’t be so bad.

-

It’s hard to stay in contact with the revolution going on- they’re supposed to be enemies, after all- but they manage. They exchange letters, when they can- leave little messages for each other, coded so they’re the only ones who can read them. It’s thrilling, exciting in the way some of Jared’s books are, from home- the ones about mystery, deceit, illicit relationships-

And that’s what this is, isn’t it? He and Jensen are on opposite sides of a conflict, a war- and here they are acting like best friends, spending as much time together as they can manage between their individual duties.

He’s not sure when he starts falling for Jensen- if it’s maybe because of the way he smiles, or the sound of his laugh, or the way his freckles come down across his shoulders, too- but when he realizes it, Jared is… entirely unconcerned.

It feels natural. It feels like breathing, the softness in Jensen’s eyes piercing deep into Jared’s chest and making it hard for him not to smile. He usually doesn’t bother to fight it.

Jensen’s his enemy, Jensen’s his best friend, and Jensen, he thinks, is the first person with whom he’s ever fallen in love.

“What are we even fighting for?” Jensen asks one day, and they’re both out of uniform, sitting together in the back of a little eatery. He keeps his voice low; they’ve both learned pretty quickly that their respective accents tend to tip people off pretty fast. “We’ve got plenty of other colonies, and they’re all tremendously less difficult than this one.”

Jared can’t help but smile at that. Rests his chin in his hand as he looks at Jensen across the table from him and hopes he doesn’t look too lovestruck. “What’s the point of having something if it isn’t worth fighting for? Seems to me that just makes it more valuable.”

Jensen cocks an eyebrow. “You saying you want this to continue?”

“No, I want the monarchy cut off and for us to finally have the freedom we want.” He smiles, lets his foot bump against his friend’s under the table. “But I’m saying it wouldn’t feel nearly as good if you just let us go. We’re gonna win it fair and square for ourselves.”

Jensen huffs out a laugh, but there’s something soft and fond and kind in his eyes that makes Jared’s heart warm, and that’s good enough for right now.

-

They’ve been meeting on and off for six months when Jensen misses one of their rendezvous, and Jared tries to tell himself that nothing is wrong.

There’s always the possibility that he’s gotten held up. Jared’s waiting outside for him, lingering by the entrance to a little pub on the edge of the city, waiting for his friend to arrive, and there’s a single flower tucked into the lining of his coat to protect it from the rain- he’s going to tell Jensen about how he feels, today, at least try to broach the subject. 

That’s the plan, anyways, but Jensen’s never been late before, and as hours pass, with other patrons both coming and going giving Jared concerned-confused-suspicious looks, he starts to get worried.

By the time the barkeep steps outside to tell him he needs to leave- that they’re closing up and he’s worrying the other customers- Jared can’t ignore the twisting in his gut, the instinctive feeling that something is very wrong. He finds himself checking the little note in his pocket, over and over again to make sure he has the right time and place. 

He does. Jensen still isn’t there- and it only gets worse as time goes on.

No matter what he tries- the secret spots, the letters, the code- it seems that he can’t get into contact with Jensen. His panic grows as the days turn into weeks, then months, and he can only be frustrated with himself- there’s nothing he can _do_ , no way he can contact Jensen, no way to even know where he is, and it’s infuriating.

Months start to pile up, and a year passes before Jared really realizes it. It feels like time doesn’t really matter, anymore, with his best friend missing and a single flower pressed into a tiny frame he carries with him wherever he goes. He keeps fighting for his country’s independence, for their freedom- but it doesn’t seem as important as it used to. Everything worth winning is also worth fighting for, but it seems that no matter how hard Jared fights, there’s no way he’s ever going to win Jensen- not if he doesn’t know where he is.

Still, he fights- he holds on. He keeps the old flower with him, just in case- brittle and pressed flat, tucked away in the pocket over his heart. 

Years pass, and the revolution ends in victory. Jared smiles with the rest of the country, but it feels bittersweet to celebrate alone, and it doesn’t seem fair to try to do it with anyone else.

The rest of his life is sort of a blur- greyed and numb with the glaring absence of the only person he’s ever truly loved. Friends come and go, but Jared never really feels connected to them- never gets past that ache, the endless _what ifs_ that surround Jensen’s disappearance. Jared doesn’t know if he’s alive; he very well could’ve left and gone back to England. Could be settled on the other side of the country with a family of his own. Could be happy and safe and out of reach.

Could be dead and buried in an unmarked grave among the other fallen Brits.

Jared tries not to wonder. It’s easier to sit in his home by himself, tiny frame cradled in his hands, and pet his fingertips over the glass that protects the flower from the outside world- from the sorrow that’s sunken its claws deep into his heart and left him empty.

“I love you, Jensen,” he’ll say softly, like he’s practising all over again. He can see his own reflection in the glass, withered and greying like the flower he’s so damn intent on. He doesn’t have much time left, either. “I think I’ve always loved you, even if when we met, you almost stabbed me.”

At least teardrops, he thinks, are easy to wipe clean. He doesn’t want anything to soil the only physical reminder he has of his best friend.

 

 

In 1867, Jared’s busy making a name for himself, and kidnapping a kid from an influential family seems like the way to do it quickly. 

The Ackermans are old money, and their only son- Jensen, seventeen, heir to the name and the fortune- turns out to be an easy target. Jared catches him on his own, in the woods just on the edge of his family’s property, walking alone and barefoot through a little meadow. 

He doesn’t bother so much with the odd sense of déjà-vu and focuses more on getting a gag in the kid’s mouth and nearly dragging him back to the horse he has waiting. It’s almost too easy, but maybe he’s just caught Jensen off guard. He doesn’t fight back, sits quiet and oddly complacent on their way to the cabin Jared’s got himself.

“How much are you going to ask for?” is the first thing Jensen says when Jared removes his gag. He doesn’t seem panicked, doesn’t even seem angry, and Jared’s not entirely sure how he’s supposed to feel about that. Jensen’s just watching him, eyes curious, if a little wary, and so, so green.

“Haven’t quite decided yet.” Jared’s got a vague sum in the back of his mind, but he figures he’s got a few hours, at least, before he needs to figure it out for sure. “How much d’you think your parents are willing to pay?”

Jensen just gives him a mysterious little smile and takes a seat on the couch he’s wandered over to. His wrists are bound in front of him, but Jared’s left him otherwise uninhibited for the moment. “I guess you’ll find out soon enough.”

-

As it turns out, Jensen’s a very easy person to live with. Jared sets out some ground rules off the bat- no screaming, no running, no trying to contact anyone, and maybe they can both walk away from this no worse for wear- and Jensen’s entirely content to do as he's told. He explains, later, that he’s been snatched a couple times before, and that Jared is by far the most polite kidnapper he’s ever met, so why not make it easy on him?

Jensen’s also a little strange in that sense, but it’s not hard for Jared to decide that he kind of likes it.

“Anyone ever threaten to like, cut off your finger or something?” Jared asks, out of the blue. Jensen’s halfway through his breakfast- no point starving his only bargaining chip, right?- and glances up at him. There’s a little cup of flowers in the middle of the table, and it’s a strangely domestic scene, given the conversation they’re having. “I mean, for your parents. To freak ‘em out.”

Jensen raises an eyebrow. “Don’t you think you’d have noticed by now if I didn’t have all my fingers?”

Jared can’t quite stop himself from looking down at where the fingers in question are curled around a fork on one side and a knife on the other. Catches himself counting them before he shakes himself, looks up to meet Jensen’s eyes almost sheepishly. “Maybe you were hiding it before. I don’t know.”

Jensen smiles, rolls his eyes. “Got threatened with it one time,” he says after a moment, sounds thoughtful. “But I just sat there and cried for a while and the guy chickened out. I was eight.”

“Sounds rough.” Jared feels kind of bad for kidnapping Jensen again- he’s just a victim in this whole thing, really- but comforts himself knowing he’s treating the kid well. “Aren’t you glad I’m not crazy?”

“Debatable.” Jensen shrugs and goes back to his breakfast. “But yeah. It’s definitely a nice change.”

-

It’s been a few days since Jared sent a message to Jensen’s family to let them know about his ransom demands, settling somewhere in the middle of his ideal range- _“they’ve paid more than that before,”_ Jensen had told him- by the time he’d sorted it all out. Even now, though, as he glances as Jensen- curled up on the end of a couch, reading- the idea of letting him go doesn’t quite sit right.

“Did I ever actually tell you why I grabbed you?” Jared wanders over, purses his lips as he plops down near Jensen’s feet. “I mean, besides the obvious money thing. I don’t think I told you why I actually wanted the money to begin with.”

“Lots of people want money.” Jensen doesn’t look up from his book for a few more seconds, and Jared takes the opportunity to study his face. Dust motes in the sunlight paint tiny shadows on his face, blending in almost seamlessly with his freckles and reminding Jared of the sky at night. “Guess it’s just a matter of what you want it for.”

“Yeah, exactly.” Jared nods, fiddles with the ends of Jensen’s pant legs for something to occupy his hands. “I never wanted to hurt anyone, which I guess is why you’re here and not locked up in the basement. See, I’ve got a sister- she’s younger than me, couple years younger than you, too- and she’s never been really healthy.” He sighs, shakes his head. “Been tryin’ to get enough money to get her to see a real proper doctor, but… well, I guess there’s only so much you can do legally, right?”

Jensen’s looking at him, now, thoughtful, and nods. “Yeah. Guess so.” Goes quiet for a moment. “I hope you can make her better. However this ends up.”

And even though Jared’s plan had been so focused on getting the money and handing Jensen over unharmed, as the days go by, that’s getting harder and harder to imagine.

“Yeah. Me, too.”

-

Jensen’s been living with him- he’s hardly even a prisoner now, if he ever was to begin with- for almost a month when Jared starts to think that maybe he’s falling in love.

He’s been dismissing the feelings as friendship, as being close to another human being, for weeks now, but the more time he spends around Jensen- his dry humour, his secretive little smiles, golden hair and bright green eyes and freckles he wishes he had the time to count- the more he thinks it has to be something more. He finds himself wanting to stay close, damn near inviting Jensen into his bed more than once in search of the proximity, and he’s touching him more often, too, casual affection like they’re the best of friends.

“You don’t really act like a kidnapper,” Jensen says one day, and Jared’s got an arm around Jensen’s shoulders while they sit outside on the porch. It’s warm, and there’s the faintest hint of a breeze, and he can smell the orchards his property backs onto. It’s going to be time for the harvest, soon. “I mean, shouldn’t I be… I don’t know, shaking in my boots?”

He’s not wearing shoes right now at all, actually, but Jared decides not to comment on that. “No reason to try to scare you. I mean, if anything, that’d just encourage you to try to escape, and I don’t want that.” Doesn’t really want Jensen to leave at all, if he’s honest with himself. “I don’t know why so many people do it that way.”

Jensen rolls his eyes, but then he’s leaning into Jared’s side, tucked in close, and Jared’s heart speeds up a little. “Yeah, well, I like it. Like this, I mean. You’re a lot more fun than any of the other ones were.”

It might be a strange compliment, but it’s one that Jared takes to heart, and he tightens his grip on Jensen a little more.

Falling in love is starting to look more and more likely by the hour.

-

When the letter arrives from Jensen’s parents, a short message that indicates they’re willing to pay the sum Jared’s asked for, he doesn’t quite understand why he feels like someone’s just slipped a knife between his ribs. Jensen finds him like that, staring at the piece of paper like the words will rearrange themselves into something less painful if he looks at it long enough.

“Anything good?” And there’s a moment of quiet as Jensen reads it, and Jared closes his eyes. Listens to the heavy silence between them for a few seconds. It’s broken by Jensen clearing his throat softly. “I, uh… I guess your sister’s gonna get help, after all, huh-?”

“I don’t want the money.” Jared’s voice trembles, and god, does he feel like a selfish bastard right now, but his heart’s aching and he doesn’t want to know why. “I don’t… I don’t want to send you back.”

Jensen’s completely silent behind him, and Jared briefly wonders if he’s vanished before a pair of hands are settling on his shoulders, squeezing gently. “They’re gonna want me back, Jay,” he says gently. Sounds like he’s speaking to a child and Jared wants to cry. “That’s why they’re gonna give you the money. They want me back.” A pause, and he takes a deep breath. “They’ll get me back however they can.”

Jared doesn’t respond. Shuts down the part of his mind that’s trying to go about this rationally.

Damn the consequences. He doesn’t think he’ll survive having to hand Jensen over.

Jensen squeezes his shoulders again, and that’s the last they speak of it for a long time.

-

They come in the middle of the night, and they come armed to the teeth.

Jared’s woken by the sound of someone kicking in his front door, several voices shouting soon after, and the only thought he can conjure up is that he needs to protect Jensen.

He nearly trips over his own feet on the way to his guest room, and all but physically collides with Jensen when he opens the door. Jensen’s eyes are wide, and Jared doesn’t give him time to speak, grabbing his hand and pulling him along.

“We can take the back door,” he whispers, conscious of the men searching the front half of his cabin. They don’t have much time. “They’re busy with the front, okay? C’mon, we need to go.”

He turns, starts to pull Jensen along with him- doesn’t quite understand what’s happening when he’s yanked to a stop.

There’s sadness in Jensen’s eyes, and he just shakes his head. “Jared, they just want me,” he says softly. Doesn’t let go of Jared’s hand, but holds his ground firm. “They won’t care about finding you. Just… get away while you can. I’ll be fine.”

But all Jared can think about is the sick feeling in his stomach at just the thought of leaving his friend behind, and he shakes his head sharply. “I’m not going anywhere.” Swallows hard. Glances in the direction of the commotion before looking back at Jensen, steeling himself. “Not without you.”

Jensen’s lips part, and he looks like he’s going to respond, but that’s when the raid party rounds the corner, and everything sort of goes to shit from there.

Jared registers that at least one of them is holding a gun, and it’s all he can do to tighten his grip on Jensen, yank the boy back behind him. Everything feels like it’s moving in slow motion, like they’re underwater- Jensen’s shout, the way the man leading the group raises his rifle, the deafening sound of the thing going off. 

Doesn’t even really feel the pain, just staggers backwards with the impact, runs into Jensen as time seems to speed up all over again.

“Jared- Jay, c’mon, oh god,” Jensen’s whispering, and Jared’s not sure when he made it to the floor, but he’s definitely lying down, now, looking up at Jensen hovering over him looking terrified and angry and frantic. He’s smacking away the hands of the men who try to pull him away, and Jared can’t help a tiny smile. 

“You’re fine.” Jensen’s voice cracks, and Jared wishes there was something he could do about it. Struggles to keep his eyes open. “You’re gonna be fine, Jay, and- and you’ll get the money to your sister, and I won’t leave. Okay? S’gonna be fine. Promise.”

It’s a nice thought, anyways, even though Jared can feel the blood seeping into his shirt, wet and warm. Makes himself focus for a few more seconds as his fingers curl around Jensen’s.

“You got real pretty eyes, Jen.”

That’s about as long as he can hold on, and his eyes are already slipping shut as Jensen continues to hold him, to shake him and shout and cry. 

Jensen’s safe, though. He’ll be able to live on his own, happy and safe, and to Jared, that’s the only thing that matters anymore.

-

Jensen’s hand is shaking as he writes the note, and he’s distantly concerned that it won’t be legible. It doesn’t really matter, though- as long as the dollar amount and the name of Jared’s mother are clear, he thinks it’ll get the message across.

It wasn’t hard to track down Jared’s family, in the end, especially when Jensen found himself entirely disenamoured with the life he’d been returned to after watching Jared die. He’s got a singular focus in mind, and as he signs the note, it’s completed- so he finds himself turning his attention to the revolver his father insists he keep in his desk.

Jensen has no name for the heavy, oppressive feeling that weighs him down, but the closest he can come up with is _grief_. It’s sunken deep into his being, and all he knows now is that after seeing the life fade from Jared’s eyes, he doesn’t have very much motivation at all to continue with his own.

He gives the note one more glance before his eyes find the flowers on his desk. His chest aches with the reminder of something he doesn’t remember, and it’s the only resolve he needs.

The gun is heavy in his hand, and the barrel is cold against his skin. He doesn’t let himself think about it.

There’s a _bang,_ the taste of iron, and then nothing- and Jensen thinks, maybe, that it’s just as much as he had trying to live without the best friend he’d ever had.

 

  


 

In 1935, they meet in a soup kitchen, both of them hit hard by the depression and barely scraping by on daily work and handouts.

Jared gets shoved hard by someone moving too quickly, nearly goes down until someone catches his arm. He looks up to say thank you once he’s got his balance back, but his breath is stolen away when his eyes meet those of the stranger helping him. There aren’t very many fields in New York, but Jared’s seen enough of them to recognize the shade of green that overtakes them in particularly lush spring seasons.

“You alright?” The stranger speaks before he gets to- though ‘stranger’ doesn’t really seem to be a fair title; there’s an odd sort of recognition twisting up in Jared’s heart that’s got him confused- and he sounds worried, even as Jared straightens back up to his full height. “People can be assholes.”

Jared has to smile at that, because even the words seem familiar, somehow; the tone in which they’re spoken. “I’m good. Thanks.”

The line moves slowly, but talking to the stranger- Jensen, as he learns soon enough, and that feels perfect, somehow- makes it easier to ignore the hunger pangs in his gut. He’s smart, and he’s funny, and Jared finds himself opening up easily- sharing everything he can think to share. Even once they’re both sat down, talking around mouthfuls of soup, Jared can’t quite make himself shut up. 

“Guess it’s a little easier out here, though, ‘cause I don’t have to worry about my family so much- but I worry anyways, y’know? No tellin’ how they’re doing if I can’t be there to keep an eye on ‘em, but my mom writes, sometimes, so that’s good.”

The only time Jensen stops him from going on and on about anything that comes to mind is when he reminds Jared that the soup is bland enough when it’s hot, and he won’t get much anything out of it once it’s cold.

As it turns out, they don’t live far from each other- if it can really be called living, these days- and they make plans to meet again. Same time, same place- it’s not like there’s really anywhere else for them to go.

-

Within a couple months, they’re the best of friends, might as well be brothers for how much time they spend together. With the both of them struggling to make end’s meet, Jared ends up abandoning his shabby one-room apartment to move into Jensen’s, instead. It saves them both money, and the place is a lot less dreary with the company of a close friend.

“You think it’s always gonna be like this?” 

Jared glances up from the paper he’s squinting at- it’s a near-endless search for jobs, these days- and over to where Jensen’s making them some tea. Coffee’s too expensive right now, and though Jensen still wrinkles his nose every time he takes the first sip for reasons he's never been able to explain to Jared, they manage. “Like what?”

“This.” Jensen gestures around them, encompasses most everything. “The jobs. The soup kitchens. Poverty, all of it. You think we’re always gonna be strugglin’ to get by?”

Jensen might not be a pessimist, but he isn’t quite an optimist, either. Jared’s just happy he’s here to help balance it all out.

“I think we’re gonna get past it.” He smiles, sits up a little straighter. “I think one day, you an’ me are gonna have a real nice place together. Our own bathrooms, great big kitchen. Hell, our own chef.” It’s lofty, but he doesn’t care. “Maybe even a big backyard, out on the city outskirts. It’ll be nice.”

Jensen’s quiet for a moment, but he’s smiling to himself, just a little bit, so Jared figures it’s not a bad thing. “You think we’ll still be together, then? Still friends?”

“Still best friends,” Jared corrects, matter-of-fact. “And yeah. I do.”

That seems to be enough to set Jensen’s mind at ease, and the smile he gives Jared when he hands him a hot cup of tea is definitely worth the effort. 

-

When war breaks out on the other side of the world, Jared can’t bring himself to be all that concerned.

“C’mon, you don’t need to worry about that stuff,” he tells Jensen. His best friend is frowning at the newspaper, bright green eyes skimming over headlines about rising tensions in Europe and the conflicts that have already broken out. “It’s a whole world away, Jen. Have you ever even been to Europe?”

“No.” But Jensen’s still frowning, brow furrowed as he reads. “Guess you’d have been a little kid at the end of the Great War, huh?”

“You’re not that much older than me.” But Jared wanders on over, anyways, peeks at the newspaper over the top of Jensen’s head. “What about it?”

“Just… kinda reminds me of that whole shitshow.” He sighs, tips his head back until it bumps against Jared’s chest. “Figured that’d be the end of it, y’know?”

Jared sighs and wraps Jensen up in a hug, closes his eyes. “Let’s not worry about that, okay? Just- let’s hope they keep it to themselves this time, yeah?”

It’s as much as Jared can think to wish for right now, because the look in Jensen’s eyes has him trying to fight back the concern in his own chest. 

There won’t be another war like the first one. The world can’t handle something like that happening again.

-

When the Japanese forces drop bombs on Pearl Harbour, all of Jared’s hopes are pretty much dashed into nothing.

The entire country seems to be in a panic, because suddenly a war across the ocean is very much their problem, and the military is already on the move. Recruitment centres open up all across the nation, and there’s one that Jared sees every day on his walk between their apartment and the soup kitchen. 

He gets home one day to Jensen staring hard at nothing in particular, and before he can ask what’s wrong, Jensen blurts it out. “I think I want to enlist.”

There are a few long seconds where Jared thinks about trying to talk him out of it. About Jensen leaving home, travelling across the ocean to fight in a war that’s got nothing to do with him. Imagines losing his best friend, imagines him coming home in a body bag.

Jared doesn’t know exactly why his stomach turns so violently against Jensen leaving him for a war, but he doesn’t want to question it right now. There’s determination clear in Jensen’s eyes, and if Jared knows anything about his best friend, it’s that he’s stubborn as a mule when he wants to get something done. So instead of the “don’t” or the “I won’t let you” or the “please, god, no-”

“I think I’m gonna come with you.”

Better to die together than to lose Jensen to something over which he has no control.

-

They’re both relatively fit young men, and they’re snatched up immediately for training. Jared’s just thankful that they stay together for the most part; he’d joined up to keep an eye on Jensen to begin with, and he figures it would defeat the purpose if they were separated from the get-go.

Once he properly commits to the whole thing, though, he finds he actually enjoys the training, too. New York hadn’t been the best place to get much exercise, and the rigorous routine they’re being made to adhere to has him feeling healthier than he has in a long while. There’s an easy camaraderie among the other recruits, too, and he feels like he fits in properly and everything. That doesn’t mean he isn’t sticking close to Jensen, though.

“Told you this would be fun.” His best friend is smiling at him, face caked with dirt and sweat after their run of the obstacle course, and he looks like he’s still running his adrenaline high. “Never got to do stuff like this in the city.”

“Pretty sure you never said it would be fun,” Jared replies, can’t help a grin to match Jensen’s. “But yeah, it’s alright.”

It’s easy not to think about the war they’re going to be thrown into- about what’s going to happen when their blank rounds are replaced with live ammunition. When failure doesn’t result in a reprimand, but in death.

It’s easy to just focus on spending time with Jensen- time that, even if he isn’t ready to admit it to himself, could very well be limited.

It’s time for dinner, and Jared firmly shoves the darker thoughts to the back of his mind. There’s not much time left before they’re shipped off to the front lines, and he isn’t going to spend it agonizing over what’s to come. He’s seen the men who do, and he’d much rather throw himself into his training than wake up screaming from horrible nightmares every other day, imagination running wild to fill in the blanks of what’s to come.

-

As it turns out, his imagination doesn’t have the faintest idea, because soon enough, he finds out that, as they say- war is hell.

It’s chaotic, it’s messy, it’s terrifying. They’re thrown into unfamiliar territory with cold, deadly weapons and expected to fight for the freedom of other countries- to fight for the safety and security of their own people. Sometimes, Jared struggles to remember why he’s even here to begin with.

Of course, that’s usually when he manages to catch Jensen’s eye, one way or another- when his best friend offers him a weary smile from across the battlefield, across the trenches- and it’s usually enough to set his mind at ease. As long as they both make it through this, it feels like things are going to be okay.

It never occurs to him that there’s any other outcome, so when he watches a surprise hail of gunfire knock Jensen off his feet and he makes no move to get up, Jared feels like time has come to a standstill and like maybe this is all some horrible, twisted nightmare.

He doesn’t think about much of anything right then- not the enemy lines, not the position they’re supposed to be securing. Not the shouting, not the bullets flying around them. Not the other men who’ve fallen or the very real possibility that he could join them. He’s only got eyes for Jensen.

His knees sink into the ground, soft and muddy as he goes down hard. Can’t bring himself to care as the moisture sinks into his fatigues because Jensen’s down and Jensen’s bleeding and- and Jensen’s looking up at him, eyes greener than they should be with the dirt and the grime and-

-and Jared doesn’t want to think about the crimson that’s seeping into his best friend’s clothes, so he tries not to.

“Jen,” he says instead, and he’s almost afraid to touch Jensen, now, afraid of hurting him more. He settles for cupping Jensen’s cheek, swallowing hard and trying to keep his head upright. “Jen- god, you… you’re fine. You’re gonna be okay, please-”

Jensen shakes his head, just minutely, but it’s enough for Jared to feel like the air’s been ripped from his lungs, and for a few long seconds, he struggles to breathe. “But- no, you can’t… you’re fine.” His voice cracks that time, and it’s hard to keep speaking around the lump in his throat. “You just- you just need some patchin’ up is all, and then we’re gonna win this stupid war, and we’re gonna go home to our stupid apartment, and we’ll be heroes. We’ll be heroes, and we can- we can get somewhere nice to live, right?”

And Jensen must still be here, a little bit, because he smiles, and his eyes are soft, and Jared thinks he’s going to cry. “Get a… a nice kitchen, right? N’ bathrooms. Nice bathrooms.”

“Yeah.” Jared smiles to match Jensen’s, even though it feels like something’s trying to claw his heart out of his chest. “All that, and… a big backyard, too. Maybe we can get a dog or somethin’.”

“You always liked dogs, huh?” Jensen huffs a bit of a laugh, but it turns into coughing and there are little flecks of blood staining his lips, and Jared moves to wipe them clean with shaky fingers. “I, uh- you should get one. A dog. Don’t want you to be alone, Jay-”

“Don’t.” Jared can’t raise his voice above a whisper. “I’m not gonna be alone, you’re gonna be with me. You’re gonna be there with the- the fancy kitchen, and the bathrooms, and all of it.”

There’s something sad in Jensen’s eyes, but he nods a little bit. Jared doesn’t see Jensen’s hands moving until one of them is fumbling at Jared’s wrist, and Jared grabs for it, links their fingers together tight. “Jay, just- promise that you’ll take care of yourself, okay? No matter what happens.”

And Jared feels like he can’t breathe properly, but he nods, tries to blink the tears from his eyes. “Alright,” he whispers. “Gonna take care of both of us, okay?”

“Yeah. Know you will.” But Jensen’s eyes are slipping shut, and his breathing is shallow. “S’gonna be okay.”

It feels backwards that Jensen is the one doing the comforting right now, but Jared just nods quickly. “Yeah. ‘Course.”

Everything else seems to fade out as Jensen’s breathing slows down, and within a few seconds it’s stopped completely. Jared sort of feels numb, gripping his best friend’s limp hand and all but deaf and blind to the chaos surrounding them.

-

The whole world celebrates when the war ends, and Jared makes it home in one piece, a few scars on his skin and his heart left behind on some muddy battlefield in Europe. It feels wrong, going back to their apartment alone, when everything’s too quiet and too empty, and sitting down on the couch they used to share, he feels like a stranger in his own skin.

The years pass in a haze. He can’t bring himself to focus on much of anything, celebrations or no, and even keeping himself alive starts to become too much. His eating slows down, and he stops sleeping, too, and he doesn’t even really care as he starts wasting away.

The last time Jared leaves his apartment is to go to a little flower shop down the street. He can barely walk without feeling dizzy, but he makes it there eventually, smiles a little bit for the girl behind the counter. 

Flowers have always reminded him of Jensen, and the red roses with their green stems remind him of their last moments together. He pays for a dozen of them and stumbles his way back home. 

He stops leaving entirely after that, settles down for the last few days of his life. The flowers make him feel a little bit less lonely, and he smiles at them as long as he’s got the energy to do so.

“I’m sorry, Jensen,” he whispers one day, because it feels like the end and he doesn’t have much else to do now. “M’sorry I didn’t get our house.” 

He’s sorry for a lot of things- especially that he hasn’t followed through with his promise to take care of himself for his best friend- but mostly, he’s sorry he’s lived this long by himself.

When he closes his eyes that night, though, it's with the peace and acceptance of knowing it’s not going to be a problem for much longer.

 

  


 

In 2005, Jared stops on his way to the casting studio for his final _Supernatural_ audition to pick up a bouquet of flowers because it feels like the right thing to do. Everything feels good, feels like he’s been building to this moment his entire life- his entire _existence_ \- and he knows it isn’t the audition.

He gets there before anyone else, and he sits down on his own in the waiting room, roses and lilies and baby’s breath nestled in his lap. He doesn’t know what he’s waiting for, exactly, but he’s warm and excited and can barely sit still. Doesn’t even think about Sam Winchester right now or whether or not he’s going to get this part.

When the door opens and Jared looks up to meet eyes that are green like grass in springtime, he rises to his feet, closes the distance between them without really thinking about it.

“Is it my birthday?” are the first words out of his mouth, and he says them softly, stops with just a few inches in between him and the other man, freckles and soft golden hair and pink, pink lips. Jared’s still got the flowers clutched tight in his fingers, but they’re not his focus right now. “Hi.”

“It’s been a while, huh?” And he’s smiling, and his eyes flicker down to the bouquet for a moment. “You knew I was coming.”

“You knew I’d be waiting for you.” And Jared offers him the flowers with a shy little smile, watches as they're taken from his hand. “Guess they’re not as fresh as they could’ve been, but-”

“They’re perfect.” He’s interrupted and then their eyes meet again, and there’s something warm in the other man’s. “I’m Jensen.”

“I know.” Jared’s smile grows. “Jared.”

They’ve got a show, and they’re going to be brothers, and maybe, for once, things are going to go the way they’re supposed to. Maybe, for once, they’re finally going to be happy.

**Author's Note:**

> That was a doozy.
> 
> Thanks for reading! <3


End file.
